


Don't Forget Me (I Beg)

by LovingCSFanfiction



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Exes, F/M, No Smut, but hints at it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 07:52:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8136136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovingCSFanfiction/pseuds/LovingCSFanfiction
Summary: It was an easy decision, taking the fall for Emma and Henry. They deserved a good life, a happy life. If he took the blame, if he were the one claim everything that happened was done in solitude, then maybe they could get free.And in ten years they could be the family he always wanted them to be.Every day, he held on to that hope that they’d be back together. While his bunkmate would rustle in his sleep, he would be staring at a picture of his wife and son on the day he was born, tears sliding down his cheeks as he tried to imagine what happened to them.He held on to this hope for 10 years, every day, every night, until his last probation hearing.---CS Modern Day AU, companion piece to I'd Forgotten How It Felt Before (The World Fell At Our Feet). Title from lyrics to Adele’s “Someone Like You”.





	1. For Me It Isn't Over

_“Killian, there’s a meteor shower! We have to go watch it!”_

_He laughed as Emma grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the beach, finding the most secluded spot she could spot without anything blocking the night sky._

_He looked up at the sky and saw stars starting to fall, but Emma was looking far off into the distance. “Love, if you wanted to look at stars, all you needed was to ask. You needn’t trick me with a meteor.”_

_“Shut up.” She teased._

_“We can look at the stars any night—”_

_Emma turned to look at him. “It doesn’t make them any less beautiful tonight.”_

_He stared at her, his eyes dropping to her lips before leaning in slightly, but her face turned back to the sky before he could kiss her. He laughed before looking back at the sky, as well. “My brother taught me the constellations. Like those seven stars? That’s Ursa Major.”_

_“Ursa Major?”_

_He smiled, placing his stump around her back. “You may have heard of the big dipper?” She nodded. “Same constellation, just the nickname.”_

_“You were making me think that it was some cool thing!”_

_“It being the big dipper makes it no less interesting,” he said, moving his hand to the right on the opposite side of the sky. “See those six? Those make up Libra – your zodiac sign.”_

_“It looks like a house.”_

_“It’s story is far better, although it is the only sign that isn’t a living creature.”_

_“What do you mean?” she asked, looking back at him._

_“Well, the Libra constellation was one of the ancient Roman’s favorites. You see, the moon was said to be in the center of Libra when Rome was founded. It’s represented by a scale because it describes the seasons as being balanced, the hours of night and day match each other.”_

_Emma smiled. “What other ones are there?”_

_He drew his arm up to the middle of the night sky. “That one’s Cygnus – the swan. It’s rumored that Cygnus is actually Zeus in disguise on his way to –“ but he was cut off before he could finish what he was saying._

_Emma had grabbed his collar, pulling him to her and putting her lips on his. She threaded one hand through the hair on the back of his head, keeping her other hand tight on his shirt, as if to keep her grounded. She had stolen his breath, confused by the suddenness of the kiss, but soon sank into it, accepting her mouth and giving as much as he got._

_Once they broke, he brought his hand up to his mouth, as if trying to imprint the kiss onto his face. He looked back at the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen before turning the tables. He leaned forward to kiss her again, rolling them until she was on her back, her golden hair mixing in with the sand. He barely left her mouth, only giving them seconds of breathing before diving back in. Her hands fell to his cheeks as his stump and hand sat on each side of her head, keeping him from crushing her._

_They finally paused, looking deep into each other’s eyes. He could see the night reflecting back at him when she began to smile, biting her bottom lip. “Teach me about another constellation.”_

_He grabbed her hand, lifting her up and scooting as close to her as possible. “Have you heard of Pegasus?”_

_“Like the horse from Hercules?”_

_He let out a bark, moving his hand to point to the winged horse. “Kind of, although his story is much different. You see, his mother was Medusa and his father Poseidon, the king of horses.”_

_“I thought he was the god of the sea?”_

_“He’s both. Now, don’t interrupt again…” He gave her a wicked smile, licking his lips. “Unless it’s for more pleasurable activities.”_

_They spent the rest of the night looking at the stars, ignoring the meteor shower, and kissing until sleep took over them._

_The next morning, he woke to find Emma snuggled into his chest, his arm draped over her stomach. He smiled, breathing in her scent before kissing the back of her head. “Sleep, my swan.”_

* * *

It was an easy decision, taking the fall for Emma and Henry. They deserved a good life, a happy life. If he took the blame, if he were the one claim everything that happened was done in solitude, then maybe they could get free.

And in ten years they could be the family he always wanted them to be.

Every day, he held on to that hope that they’d be back together. While his bunkmate would rustle in his sleep, he would be staring at a picture of his wife and son on the day he was born, tears sliding down his cheeks as he tried to imagine what happened to them.

He held on to this hope for 10 years, every day, every night, until his last probation hearing.

* * *

“Do you have anywhere to go once you get out of here?” the bailiff asked as they started walking out into the desert sun. He’d been outside in Arizona working in the yard loads of times, but it felt different this time, knowing he was a free man.

“Not really. I figure I’ll find a shelter for a few months and then maybe I’ll look up some people from my past.”

“Ah, that wife and son of yours in that picture you look at.”

Killian didn’t even know where to start looking, so he just shrugged as he kept walking. “Aye, those are the ones.”

They got to the entrance and the bailiff finally took off the hand-and-feet cuffs binding him to the prison. “I wish you the best of luck, Jones.”

“Thank you,” Killian dipped his head as he stepped forward, looking out over the vast Arizona plains. There really was nothing near the prison as far as the eye could see, and he was just thankful that a pre-paid taxi would be taking him into the city.

He took a deep breath, scanning the sand when he saw a figure wave in the distance.

It couldn’t be… Could it?

Killian took off, wondering if the Arizona heat was getting to him. The woman was a brunette, she had glasses, it couldn’t be Emma.

But as he got closer, all he could do was stare at the only woman he’s ever loved. “Emma,” he said, his voice softer than he thought it would be. A moment later, she was hugging him, sqeezing him in her embrace. He smelled her hair as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him and never wanting to let go. “You waited for me.”

Her only reply was “Hi, Killian,” and it was the best sound on the world. Hearing her voice say his name, to him and not in his mind, was the only thing that mattered. She was here and alive and all the memories and dreams and fantasies of the past 10 years did not live up to this moment.

He was home, at last.

He got in the passenger seat as Emma walked around the car to the driver’s one, and as soon as the car started and she put it into forward, he placed his hand on top of hers. He was silent, she was silent, but it was okay. It was Emma, and she came back for him, and all he wanted to do was be with the woman he loved most

Inside the room, he couldn’t help himself as he pushed her against the door and kissed her. He tilted his head to the side, brushed his thumb against the apple of her cheek, and after not kissing anyone for 10 years, he definitely could not complain about how this one felt. “Emma,” he murmured into her mouth, and then he was kissing her again.

It was perfect.

“Are you hungry?” She asked, putting her hands on his chest as they caught their breaths. “I can order us some room service?” She walked to the nightstand and brought him a menu. “My treat, anything you want.”

He paged through the menu, knowing he didn’t give a bloody fuck what he ate, as long as she was here and with them. She ordered their meals and, as soon as she hung up the phone, he asked, “Where’s Henry?”

“Back home, in Storybrooke. Want to see him? I have some pictures…” Emma reached into her purse and quickly picked up a small rectangular device, punching some numbers with her thumb and then sliding her finger on the screen over and over again. Curiosity was overcoming him, confusion with the electronics in her hand. “It’s an iPhone,” she said, and he suddenly realized she was looking at him. “It’s kind of like a computer built into a phone.”

She stared at him for a second, something clearly on her mind, before looking back down at her phone and finding whatever she was looking for. “He got second place,” she murmured while giving him the small phone

Seeing his son for the first time in ten years was indescribable. He had his brown hair, but Emma’s freckles. His smile was all his, though, and he couldn’t help the pounding in his heart as he finally discovered what his son looked like. “He’s spectacular,” he whispered, unsure if he even said the words out loud. “Is he smart?”

“Best grades in his class – really good at Language Arts.”

“And does he have any friends?” His throat started to burn as he stared at the picture, loving every possible thing about him. He felt his lip trembling and tears prickle his eyes. Henry was everything to him, and now putting a face and description to the name… It was all he’d wished for for 10 years.

“Loads. He just started middle school a couple days ago. Here.” Without warning, the phone was taken from Killian’s hand, and he wouldn’t deny whimpering at the loss. He wanted to see his boy, he _needed_ to see him.

The phone was back in his hands a moment later. “This was two weeks ago.”

He stared at his son and wife smiling at the beach, swimsuits on and sand in the background. “I love him so much.”

“Me, too.”

He continued to look at the phone until it started to shine, vibrate, and sing, and he dropped it to the ground. “What the bloody hell was that?”

“Henry’s calling,” she replied, laughing at him. She turned the phone around and Killian saw Henry’s smiling face in a square on the screen. “One second, I should take this.”

He brought his hand up to his neck and scratched behind his ear, nodding as he waited for Emma to talk.

“Hey Liam, how was school?”

Killian’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She had just said Henry was calling, he saw his picture on the screen, but she said the name Liam.

(A name he hadn’t heard in years…)

 _“I’ll tell you about it after,”_ Emma mouthed, and Killian nodded in understanding.

He didn’t really pay much attention to the rest of her conversation, his mind too clouded with his new vision of Henry and what he’s like. It wasn’t until she said, “I should be back soon – hopefully by Wednesday,” that he snapped back to her. Wednesday was only a few days away, and if she was going back to Storybrooke…

That meant he couldn’t come with. He was stuck in Arizona for the next year, and she should have _known_ that. Before he got a chance to say anything, there was a knock at the door, and that could only mean room service was standing outside. Emma answered it and received their food for them, passing out the appropriate trays to each of them before sitting down across from him.

She picked up her phone again and swiped her finger through it until she found what she was looking for and passed him the phone. Killian forgot about how hungry he was as he looked at the newest picture she gave him. “Why’d you call him Liam?” he asked as his thumb began stroking Henry’s hair, as if he’d be able to reach in and feel the real thing for himself if he rubbed hard enough.

“He thinks that’s his name. You told us to get new identities for ourselves and to run, so I did. He’s known as Liam David Swan.”

She began eating her onion rings (some things never change) when he looked up at her again. “Swan? And, pray tell, what is your name, Emma?”

“Leia.”

“From Star Wars?” He couldn’t help the bark that came out of his mouth as he imagined her being called Leia for 10 years. She frowned slightly, chomping into her onion ring as he said, “Real original.”

“It was hard to pick a name on the spot!”

He finally put the phone down, still grinning at the idea of her panicking and choosing the name Leia. He took a fry from his plate and dipped it into his ketchup. Putting it in his mouth, he nearly melted. He hadn’t tasted such delicacies in years, and he couldn’t help the moan that came out of his mouth. “Oh, god. The food.”

“Didn’t like prison food too much?”

“After a while, I just kind of got used to it. But having this? If I weren’t already going straight for Henry, it will be to keep eating this kind of food.”

Emma giggled as she picked up a napkin from the table, wiping away the mess he most likely got on his face from shoveling food into his mouth. “I actually brought you something,” she said before moving over to the corner to get her suitcase. Moments later, she was back with an orange candy packet sporting the word “Reece’s” at the top. “Still your favorite?”

“I don’t know – haven’t had one in ten years.” It was meant as a joke, but he could feel Emma tensing up, as if something as small as not having candy in prison just hit her. He pretended not to notice the change in her body as he took a bite. “Oh yeah, still my favorite.”

Emma sat down and stuffed a whole onion ring in her mouth. Based on the years they spent together, and the ten years he had to think about it, he knew something she didn’t want to talk about was on her mind. “How was it in there?” He could tell she hated asking, yet at the same time needed to know.

Ten years of prison life flashed in his head – the friendships he made with fellow prisoners that he had no intention of keeping, the late nights spent crying on his cot, the prison guards he had to smooth talk… He would never lie – there were moments that it wasn’t terrible. He always had a hot meal available to him, something he wasn’t always sure of when he was on the outside. But there were also some bad times, when other convicts would get out of hand and he’d end up in the infirmary for a fight he didn’t even start. “At first it was tough, but it got easier over time. You?”

“It was scary in the beginning.” His heart sank, knowing that he wasn’t able to protect her. She certainly didn’t _need_ protecting, but he it still hurt to think she was scared with a toddler, all by herself. “I was always worried Henry and I would be caught. But, after a few months, my name and face weren’t around the news anymore, and I was able to slowly integrate into society.”

Killian let out a breath. It was hard for her, but she made it through. And now, they could figure out life as a family again – he could protect them like he should. “How was it raising Henry on your own?”

“It was hard to be both a mom and dad at the same time, but I learned, and Graham helped out.” Her voice tensed, and he could see the veins at the sides of her face bulge, as if there was something she was keeping from him.

He decided to let it pass, looking back at his food. “Who’s Graham? A teacher of his?”

“No, he’s the Storybrooke sheriff… And my boyfriend.”

He dropped his food, his body sinking at the thought. “What?” In retrospect, it shouldn’t surprise him – he didn’t have a choice but to wait for her, she was free on the outside with a new identity. But the idea that she shared herself with someone in a way she should only share with _him_ , that she let someone see her, or touch her, as only he should, that she let _someone take care_ of her _and Henry_ when it should have been him, nearly tore him apart.

“He’s been there for Henry, Kill. Back when he was five and six and needed a daddy for “father/son day” at school, he went with, even before we were together.” It rushed out of her mouth, as if it was completely justified… “I spent a long time waiting for you, Killian, but then Graham was there, and it sort of, just… happened. He loves Henry like a son, Killian, and he’d never hurt him, or me.”

“What did you tell them about me?” He knew it was selfish to think about himself in this moment, to pin himself against this Graham-fellow he had never met before and probably treated like the princess she was. “You did tell Henry he was going to see his dad again, didn’t you?”

And if he had any bit of sanity left in his body, it was gone the minute he saw Emma start to shake her head no. “He started asking where his daddy was when they made Father’s Day cards in preschool. I told him you died a hero as a fireman saving people from a burning building.”

The dams broke as he felt his throat choke up and his eyes water. “Why would you tell him that?” He sobbed.

“I didn’t know if we’d ever see you again! And he thought his name was Liam Swan, and how was I supposed to tell him that you weren’t going to be around if you were alive?”

“No, how were you supposed to tell him that his father was in prison for ten years. _That’s_ why you told him I was dead, so he didn’t know his dad was a criminal.” he spat the words at her, and he didn’t mean for it to be as harsh as it came out.

“ _Killian_ …”

But her pleas had no affect on him – he was too worked up and hurt, not only from the lie she told their son, but also from thinking about her with that man. The man who shared her bed and acted as father to his son, the man who was _there for her when he couldn’t be_. “I have spent ten years thinking about you guys, thinking of the reunions. And never _once_ did I believe you’d tell Henry I was dead. How am I… How am I supposed to know him now?”

She drew in a breath, and everything fell into place. “You don’t want him to know me. You don’t want him to know you _lied_ about me.”

“I’m sorry, Killian. I really thought we’d never see each other again… I thought I was going to, to… I thought he should know his father died a hero – which you kind of did. You _saved_ me and Henry, Killian. We changed our lives around. We’re here and alive and a family because of _you_.”

“No, _you’re_ a family. I’m an ex-con who’s stuck in Arizona for the next year and now knows his son doesn’t even know he exists!” This moment, this bittersweet moment was spiraling out of control, and he hated himself for it.

She was by him in an instant. “Killian, please. If you ever want what’s best for him, you have to let us go. I wasn’t going to give these to you until tomorrow, but I guess now is as good as ever.”

She had gone over and gotten a manila folder and was holding it out to him. He grabbed it with his only hand and opened it. “Divorce papers?” He felt small as he saw her confirmation. “No.”

Emma was clearly taken aback. “No?”

“No.”

“Killian…”

“One week.”

She stared at him, and he couldn’t tell if it was frustration or irritation, or pure confusion in her eyes. “What?”

“You and Henry give me one week. If you don’t think I’m best for you guys anymore, if you don’t think I should be in your life, I’ll sign the papers. But I’m not going to do anything until our family is together for a full week.” He slapped himself, giving her an out to leave him forever after merely a week, but he had to give it a shot.

He saw her let out a breath, could see the indecisiveness behind her features.

He could see the moment she decided to give in to him. “Four days.”

Killian’s heartbeat slowed slightly. Could he do it? Could he save his family in four days.

“Fine. Four days.”

* * *

He wasn’t sleeping – hell, he wasn’t even pretending very hard. Listening her talk to her  _boyfriend_ … He couldn’t help it. He tried to breathe softly as he only heard one side of the conversation. He almost winced when she said, “Well, I ran into an old friend…”

Ha! Like he was an old friend. He was her _husband_ , the husband she was still married to, the husband that took the blame for her and spent ten years locked up so she and her son could be free.

Yeah, old friend.

“It’s usually for kids flying back and forth for divorced parents, but it will work for him, too.”

Would that be Henry’s future? Living in Storybrooke with Emma and _Graham_ , and flying alone to him for week long trips?

_Divorced parents._

His mind was racing with self hatred, and hatred for this man he never met, when he heard her yell, “Because his father wants to meet him, okay?”

He wanted to roll over right then, to hug her for acknowledging that he was alive, to kiss her and hope that maybe, just maybe, admitting this was the first step in becoming a family again.

Instead, he stayed on his side of the bed, facing towards the window, and pretending to sleep.

“It’s not up to you, Graham. He’s my son, and I want him to meet his father. You’re not his dad – you don’t get to make these kinds of decisions about him.”

Another small victory – Emma had defended Graham all day long, saying he was the perfect father figure for Henry, just admitted not only was he, Killian, Henry’s father, but that Graham, indeed, was not.

His mind was racing before he heard her say, “Is he busy right now? Can I talk to him?” Her voice was shaky, and he wanted, _needed_ , to comfort her. He turned over, trying to decide the best way to give her the support she needed.

She held the phone away from her ear. “Want me to put it on speaker so you can hear his voice? You’ll have to be quiet, though.”

His heart beat fast, realizing he was going to hear his son talk for the first time ever. The babbles as a child don’t count – he was on the verge of being a teenager, his voice was going to be significantly deeper… He nodded, pretending to zip his lips to lighten the hard conversation she must be having with… _Graham_.

_“Hello? Mom?”_

It was the best sound he’s ever heard.

He sounded like Liam, his brother Liam, back when he was a preteen. It was sort of fitting, thinking about the name Emma chose for him and the man he was named after.

“Hey, kid.” Emma was looking at him, smiling. “How was your first day without me?”

 _“Long, but Graham let Avery come over for a sleepover, so that’s pretty cool.”_ Killian hated hearing Graham’s name come out of his mouth. No, Henry never knew Killian, but at the same time, he couldn’t help feeling like Graham’s name should never grace his son’s lips.

 _“That’s not fair! Graham said we could go to Granny’s for breakfast!”_ Henry whined, and a smile crept upon his face again. He knew what his son sounded like, he knew what his son looked like…

And in less than 24 hours, he would know what it felt like to hug him again.

Killian didn’t listen to the rest of the conversation – didn’t focus on what they were saying. All he cared about was listening to the sweet tone of his lover’s voice, and the sound of his son’s voice after 10 long years.

He winced when the words “I love you too, Graham. I’ll see you when Liam and I get back, okay?” Came out of her mouth.

“Graham seems nice,” he said as Emma turned back to him. He knew it was petty and snide, but he couldn’t help it.

“Killian…”

“No, I get it. I was in prison for ten years. Why did I think you’d keep a promise from when he were just kids?” The burning came back to his throat.

He felt her hand grab his hand. “I have no doubt that we’d still be together if you never got sent away.”

Killian tried to smile, although he knew it was a failed attempt. “Yeah, well… Life’s a bitch.”

“It sure it.” She agreed.

They were silent for a moment until Killian asked, “Are you tired?” and sitting up in the bed next to her. “It’s been a long day for you, and that sounded like a pretty draining conversation.”

“A bit.”

Killian leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on the crown of her forehead, knowing it was slightly bold of him, yet unable to control it. She didn’t shy away from it, nor did she lean into it, like she used to. “I’ll change and take the couch – you should be on the bed.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You’ve slept on a cot for ten years. I think it’s about time you sleep in a bed. I can take the couch.”

“But I’m used to it, and you’re tired and the one paying for this.”

Emma bit her lip, something he hadn’t necessarily forgotten about, but he hadn’t quite remembered how much it made his heart beat, either. “We’re… both adults. We can share.”

Ten years ago, he would have made some sort of innuendo. But, with the fragile state they were in, he knew it wouldn’t be wise to make a crack at something.

“You still sleep on the left side?” he joked, putting on his most charming smile.

Emma returned it with her own smile. “I do.”

* * *

Killian hadn’t slept a wink since they went to “bed” a few hours ago. He turned over to look at the digital clock.

_2:03 AM._

His cellmate in prison, a young lad named Will Scarlet, used to shift on the top bunk and shake his cot, and he was able to sleep through it. And peacefully, at that.

Emma slept like an angel.

Why couldn’t he sleep, now that he was on a soft bed with the woman he loved?

He wanted to reach over, to wrap his arm around her and cocoon her like he used to all those years ago. If he could just scoot to the left slightly, bury his face in her hair and hold on to her warmth, he was positive he’d be able to fall asleep.

But she would push him away if he even tried – he knew it. So instead, he turned to his side to watch her sleep, trying his best to ignore the pang in his heart. How could she not see they were good together? How could she just ignore everything they had and everything they wanted to be?

It was truly heartbreaking to think he only had four days not to only win her back, but also be with their son. What if Henry didn’t like him? What if Henry didn’t trust him, being an ex-con?

He rolled slightly to lie on his back, placing his hand and stump on his stomach. Thoughts were running a mile a minute in his brain, and he did everything in his power to turn them off.

Throwing caution to the wind, he reached his hand down and slid next to Emma’s hand, the gentlest touch that wouldn’t wake a sleeping baby. It may not have been the physical contact he wanted (or needed), but the simple feeling of the back of her hand resting upon his own was just enough for him to fall into a light sleep.

\---

An annoying tune sounded in the air, jolting Killian awake, along with the woman he was still holding hands with. “What the bloody hell is that?” he asked, his heart beating fast at the song.

He didn’t realize he had gripped Emma’s hand in his fear, and it was only when he saw Emma staring at their hands did Killian release it and push himself away.

“Killian…”

“I was just scared, Swan, that’s all.”

Emma stared at him for a second before nodding and sliding out of bed. “I’m going to go take a shower and then I’ll go pick up Henry from the airport.”

“Can I come with?” Emma stopped in her tracks before turning to him, a single eyebrow raised. “To the airport, I meant. Although, I wouldn’t say no…”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, walking further towards her suitcase, digging through it for a new outfit. Finding what she needed, she stood up and looked at him. “I think I should pick him up on my own instead of bombarding him with you as soon as he gets here.”

He bit his tongue as he ignored the urge to insist coming with.

She left for the bathroom as he went out on the patio, sliding the door open and closed and walking over to the balcony. The sun was already up and shining, and he could really get a good look at the view from their hotel room.

It was a beautiful place – much nicer than any hotel they stayed in when they were together. It must have cost her a fortune. It made him feel good, not that she was willing to spend so much on him, but that she had enough money that she _could_ spend so much on him.

It was a promise that Henry and she didn’t have to live paycheck to paycheck once he was locked up – something he thought about quite often in prison. Knowing she could afford something so grand helped put his mind at ease for all those sleepless nights, knowing that they did okay for themselves.

The sliding of the glass jolted him from his thoughts as he turned to see his visitor. “Okay, so I’m going to pick him up at the airport, then we’ll meet you here back at the hotel and we’ll all go out for ice cream, okay?”

Killian’s heart began beating quickly and he could actually _feel_ his face morphing into a smile. “I can’t wait. I really can’t wait.”

“Calm down—I can’t have two excited puppies. Henry’s going to be excited to be on vacation enough already without you riling him up.”

Killian started laughing, knowing that he would most likely do that exact thing. “I’ve just been dreaming of this moment for so long.” The moment he would see Henry (and Emma) again kept him going in even the darkest nights of prison life.

“You do know I’m going to introduce him as Liam, right? I know his name is Henry and that’s what we’ve been calling him for the past 24 hours, but _he’s_ spent ten years being called Liam. We’re already going to be changing his life forever with you still being alive. Let’s take things one step at a time.”

He surrendered, raising his hands and dipping his head towards her. “Okay, okay. I’ll call him Liam, _for now_.”

“And I’m Leia.” Killian rolled his eyes, hating to agree to call her the alias she’s been living under. “I’ll be back in an hour.

“Bye, Emma.” He said the words, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to call her the sweet name she was given for _at least_ four days.

“Bye, Killian.”

She gave a quick wave before she left the hotel room. It wasn’t until the door shut that his heart beat, trying to figure out what he should do to prove to Emma that they should still be a family – that hope is not lost on them.

Emma gave a brief synopsis of what Henry was like, but he didn’t know him _at all_. He was a young man now, and Killian had left when he was merely a toddler. He had no idea how he should act or be around him.

Killian paced the hotel room for a few minutes before taking a shower; he went to the fridge and had some water… He went outside to stare at the sunrise, his toe tapping the entire time.

He even tried to take a nap, hoping that his lack of sleep would be enough to calm his mind. Nothing worked as he waited and waited for Emma and Henry to return. He opened the dresser and found two books – a bible and Huckleberry Finn – and decided to mindlessly read until they got back.

Taking Huckleberry Finn, he opened to the beginning and began to read. He read a lot in prison – there was a tiny library with a few books, and he often chose to read over playing cards or going to the yard. It helped him escape from where he was, going on tales across realms. It always saddened him when he ended a book, when reality hit down on him and he realized that he was not in Wonderland, but actually in Arizona’s Minimum Security State Penitentiary.

His eyes glided over the words, nothing sinking in despite the relaxing feeling of having a book in his hands. It wasn’t until he heard the rolling of a suitcase and the chatter of a young boy and his mother that his heart rate sped up.

Hearing the key card slip into the lock…

Hearing the beep signifying that the door _unlocked_ …

Hearing the slight creak of the door as it opened…

His head shot up, the adventures of Finn long forgotten as he look at his son, in flesh, for the first time in years. His eyes began to water, and he had a hard time swallowing. “Swan, he’s beautiful.” He threw the book on the bed as he ran over to the two people who meant most to him in the world. He couldn’t handle it anymore, he reached forward and brought Henry into a hug – one that he knew was a bit overdramatic, but he couldn’t bring himself to let Henry go. “I’ve missed you so much, lad.”

He could feel Henry’s sense of stranger danger kick in, but seeing the confirmation Emma gave him, he finally put him arm around him. “Uh, you, too. Have we met?”

His heart tugged, realizing he was a stranger to this boy. Reluctantly, Killian pulled back, wiping away the tears he had let slip. “A long, long time ago, back when you lived here.”

Emma stepped in. “Liam, this is Killian. Killian, Liam.” Henry continued to look at Killian with hesitation. “Ice cream! Killian, are you in a state that you could come with us for ice cream?”

Killian smiled, willing himself to not cry anymore. “I’m not leaving your sides for the next four days, Swan.” He gave himself another look at Henry before grabbing his jacket from the bed.

He saw Henry whisper to Emma, and heard Emma reply, “We’ll talk about it at the ice cream shop.”

* * *

“Ow!” Killian whimpered when Emma kicked him underneath the table.

“Killian, you’re creeping him out.”

“Okay, will someone tell me who he is and why he’s so excited to see me?” Henry sat up in his chair, clearly fed up with being left in the dark.

Emma turned to Killian, fear in her eyes. All he wanted to do was reach out and grasp her hand, like he did so many times ten years ago, and give her the strength she needed to tell him. But he kept to himself, knowing that pushing her wasn’t going to do any good. “Um… He’s, uh… Kill?”

His heart started pounding as he stared at her, hating that this moment has come to this. Finally, he looked back at their son, ready to drop the bomb. “Hen—Liam, I’m your father.”

Killian hadn’t known what to expect. In his darkest times, Killian would imagine Henry would have been ecstatic and ran into his arms, but he knew that that was merely a dream as soon as he saw Henry shaking his head. “No, my father’s dead. He died, trying to save people from a burning building. That’s what you told me, that he was a hero.”

Killian could tell Henry was panicking as he tried to understand not only that his father was alive, but also that his mother lied about it. “He was, _is_ , Liam. It’s just, I wasn’t exactly telling the truth.” Emma took a breath before continuing. “You see, Killian had to go away for a while, and we couldn’t be together anymore. And, I didn’t know if we’d ever meet each other again, so I thought… He really is a hero, Liam. He saved us when you were just a baby.”

The table shook as Henry jumped from his spot, throwing down his spoon and yelling “You’re lying!” as he ran into the boys’ bathroom.

Emma sank in her chair, putting a hand over her forehead. “Well, that could have gone better.”

Killian stood up and began pushing in his chair. “How did you think this was going to go? He thought his dad was dead his whole life.” He tried not to blame her, but seeing his son walk away with such pain was making it difficult.

“Where are you going?”

His body sank as he began walking towards the bathrooms. “To go talk to my son. I’ve waited for this moment for ten years, I’m not going to waste any more time.”

If Emma were going to reply, Killian wouldn’t have known as he followed the path Henry just took. His own son, devastated to learn that he was _alive_ was killing him almost as much as finding out Emma told Henry he was dead in the first place. He knew it was probably more of a shock to him than anything else, but it still tore at his heart.

As he pushed open the door, he noticed the boy standing in front of the mirror, trying to use a napkin to stop his tears. _“Stop it, Liam, you’re being stupid.”_ He muttered to himself. _“Just stop crying! You’re being a big baby!”_

“It’s okay to be emotional.” He watched Henry jump in his place and turn around, eyes widening as he realized Killian had walked in and was watching him cry. As he opened his mouth to talk, Killian held up his only hand to silence him, taking two steps closer. “It means you have a big heart. It’s a sign of strength.”

“That’s not what the other kids at school would say. They’d say I’m being a crybaby.”

Killian smiled as he walked closer. “Good thing that the other kids at school are almost 3,000 miles away and will never know about this, then.”

Henry let out a breath as he threw the napkin in the garbage, his eyes never leaving Killian. “So… You’re my dad.”

“Aye.”

“I’m Liam.”

_Henry._

“It’s nice to meet you, Liam. Sorry I took so long.”

“It’s okay.”

But it _wasn’t_ okay. Killian didn’t know how to _do_ this – he was able to change Henry’s diapers one-handed ten years ago, but now? He missed out on all the long talks and advice Henry would have needed from a father growing up. “No, it’s really not.”

Henry shrugged. “It’s not like _you_ lied to me.”

“Let’s not blame your mother for this.”

“Why not?”

“I’d rather us not focus on that as we try to get to know each other. Is there anything you want to ask me?”

Henry turned back towards the mirror and grabbed another napkin, wetting it and trying to wipe his face. “Were you ever a fireman?”

Killian forced himself to keep smiling, despite the turn the conversation suddenly took. “No. I was more of an… Entrepreneur, of sorts.”

Henry nodded his head, throwing out the napkin and swiveling towards him again. “Did you even know about me?”

Killian was in front of him in two steps, placing both of his hands, including the artificial one, on his shoulders. “I helped your mother raise you for two years before we were separated, and I haven’t thought of anyone else since.”

Henry nodded again, looking straight into his eyes. “Do you have a new family?”

“The only family I’ve ever had, and want, is you and your mother.” It was the truth, and he needed Henry to know that.

“Are you getting back together with my mom?”

Killian’s features dropped as he lifted his hands from his shoulders. He really didn’t know how to answer that question – obviously, being a family with Emma and Henry was all he’s ever dreamed about, but he couldn’t force Emma to be with him. “Whatever we become, it’s up to her as much as me.”

Henry seemed to accept this answer as he continued to drill him. “Why didn’t you come to Storybrooke with mom and me ten years ago?”

“I was in a tough situation and couldn’t leave, but it was much safer if you and your mother went. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever been though, being away from you, two.”

“Are you coming back to Storybrooke with us when we leave?”

“No. Someday, maybe, but not yet.”

Henry’s shoulders slumped, but continued on. “Why did you let mom tell me you were dead?”

“Honestly, it’s been just as much as a shock to me that she told you that as this whole situation must feel to you. But, your mother was just trying to protect you from pain. Although I had hopes we’d meet again, she wasn’t as sure.”

Henry seemed to think about Killian’s answer for a moment. “What do you like to do?” The change in topic threw Killian off, but he grasp onto it with his life as he tried to reconnect to Henry.

“I used to sail a lot – even took you and your mother out on the ocean as a babe. Do you go anymore?”

Henry shook his head. “No. My mom’s never taken me.”

“If your mother’s okay with it, we can go while you’re here?”

The sides of Henry’s mouth finally twitched, not quite reaching a smile, but he was starting to crack. “Absolutely.”

“Will you answer a question for me?” Henry waited for whatever Killian wanted to know. “Can you be the mature young man your mother has bragged about when we go back out there? Or do you need some more time in here?”

“Mom’s bragged about me?”

Killian smiled, placing a hand on Henry’s shoulder as he guided the pair of them towards the door. “There’s little else she’s done. She’s so proud of you, and how could she not?”

He took a deep breath before nodding. “Yeah, yeah we can go back out there.” Henry grinned as he let Killian lead him back out towards Emma and their table.

“All better?” She asked, sitting up straight as they walked towards her. Emma’s voice was strained, as if she was worried they wouldn’t come out again.

He felt Henry tense under his arm and saw his face drop as he looked back up at him. “Yeah, it’s kind of cool to find out you had a dad after thinking you didn’t.”

Emma let out a breath and smiled. “I’m glad you’re getting along.”

“We’re just going to have to make up for lost time.” He nodded towards Henry as he took his seat, taking his own after.

Henry agreed, taking a huge scoop of ice cream. “Killian said we used to go sailing when I was a kid? And he said, if it’s okay with you, the three of us could go this week.”

“Yeah… Yeah, we could do that. We’ll have to find a rental place and maybe then we go out tomorrow, or something.” Killian felt his face redden, realizing Emma said that because they used to hijack boats to go sailing. His hand went to the back of his neck and began rubbing.

Killian cleared his throat. “What do you guys want to do tonight?”

Henry took another scoop, putting on a thinking face. “Well, what’s there to do in Arizona? You know, besides it being super hot?”

“There’s a lot to do, boy. But first, I think we should go back to the hotel and get to know each other. Sound like a plan?”

Henry shook his head enthusiastically. “Come on, let’s go!”

He nearly jumped out of the seat, grabbing Killian’s hand and rushing towards the door. Killian heard a nervous laugh coming from Emma as she followed them out the door. “I call shotgun!” Henry yelled, running to the passenger door. “Killian, wanna drive?”

Killian’s throat seized up. He hadn’t driven in over ten years. His driver’s license was well over-due, and he wasn’t even sure if he could figure out the new contraption that Emma had rented. It was a significant upgrade to the janky yellow Bug they shared, so he reluctantly shook his head. “Sorry, lad, but I’m going to let your mother take this one.” He started to head towards the seat behind Henry when Emma’s voice came from behind him.

“Liam, let Killian have the front seat. He’s an adult!”

“And I’m a growing kid. I need room, too.”

He slowly saw Emma’s frown turn into a knowing grin as she looked at Killian. “This okay with you?”

Killian reached for the door and opened the back seat. “He _did_ call shotgun.”

* * *

Killian stood up, messing up Henry’s hair with his hand as his son read from his book. He walked over to Emma and sat down next to her. “He’s better than I imagined. You did well, love.” He punched her shoulder in a jesting gesture, and Emma gave a longing look at their boy.

“Thanks, but I can’t take the credit. That’s all him.” Her smile saddened as she continued to look at Henry. “He seems to have taken to you well, you know, after the initial meeting.”

Killian straightened on the bed, slightly proud that he was able to connect to Henry so easily. “I see a lot of myself in him, besides the whole criminal thing.”

“Did you tell him?” Emma interrupted, pausing his own train of thought.

It wasn’t necessarily that he was ashamed that he went to prison – he would sacrifice himself again and again if it meant Emma and Henry would be safe. But, he also didn’t want Henry’s first impression of him to be so low. “Not yet… Don’t know how to, really.”

Emma nodded, still looking at Henry as if trying to memorize his face, despite knowing him his whole life. “I can’t believe he’s actually meeting you.” She finally turned back to Killian with a slight glaze over her eyes.

“Me neither. It’s a dream come true.” He was still staring at Henry when he mentioned, a few seconds later, “I want you and Henry to take the bed. I am fine with the couch. Is that alright, love?”

“What?” Emma shook her head, a confused look on her face.

“I was just saying that you and Henry could take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” Emma’s eyes began to water, and panic mode suddenly set in, trying to think of what he said to upset her. “You okay there, Emma?”

She nodded her head while standing. “Just a little tired.” Taking only a few steps towards Henry, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re bunking with me, kid. I’m calling it a night, though, so I’ll be in bed if you need me.”

Henry didn’t even bat an eye as he shrugged her off, saying, “Okay, okay.”

The sad smile was back as she walked back to Killian. “He had a long day. Make sure he doesn’t stay up too late tonight, okay?”

“Absolutely. Goodnight.” He wanted to lean in, give her a quick peck on the lips as a promise that a new day comes new hope, but instead, he sat where he was.

“Goodnight.”


	2. I Couldn't Stay Away, I Couldn't Fight It

_“The picture, below your pillow… Is it your girl and kid?” His cellmate asked on the cot above him._

_Killian’s eyes opened wide, reaching his one hand behind his pillow to hold it, to make sure it was still there. “How do you know about that?”_

_Killian saw Will Scarlet pop his head over the side to look at him. “I’ve been your bloody cellmate for nearly three months. Do you really think I haven’t noticed you staring at it when you didn’t think I’d see?”_

_Killian sighed, bringing the picture out to look at. His thumb traced over Emma’s face, followed by the outline of Henry’s. “Aye. It’s my wife and son.”_

_“What’re their names?”_

_His eyes prickled with tears as he looked at the love of his life, and what their love had made. He swallowed, trying to make his voice even. “Emma and Henry.”_

_He felt Will shift above him, rolling back onto his cot. “How old is he? Your son?”_

_“He’s going to be seven in two months.” Killian stared at Henry’s baby face, wondering how much it has changed in the five years since he’s seen him. Surely his baby fat would be gone, and he’d have significantly more hair._

_“What are they like?” Will asked._

_Killian brought the picture down to his chest. “Emma was a spitfire, so full of life. And Henry, he was the happiest toddler.”_

_“Why are you using past tense?”_

_“I haven’t seen them since I was taken to prison. Who knows what they’re like now.”_

_“They haven’t come to visit you?”_

_Killian rubbed the back of the picture, allowing a tear to fall onto his pillow. “I told them to stay away. I don’t know what’s of them now.”_

_“That’s rough, mate.”_

_“Aye.”_

_“If it’s any better, me girlfriend dumped me ass the second I was sent here.”_

_“Sorry to hear that.”_

_They both sat in silence for a second. “Why d’you hide it under your pillow?”_

_“You’ve seen some of the people here, even in your short time. I don’t want the one thing that gives me hope to be taken from me.” Killian took the photo and put it under his pillow again._

_“We’re prisoners, Jones. There’s not much hope for us here.”_

_Killian shifted to his side. “Aye, I suppose not.”_

* * *

Killian cracked his head before standing up and stretching. The couch, while more comfortable than his cot, did not provide the most pleasant of slumbers. He walked to the patio and slipped out, the sun barely rising as he got out there.

He only had three more days to prove he was the person Emma and Henry should have in his life. Only three days to convince Emma that he deserved a chance, that he was a _good guy_ and that he’s changed.

He took out the picture that got him through so many nights in prison, the picture so faded he could barely make out the faces anymore. Ten years of staring at that photo wore it away, but he still looked at it as if it was the clearest thing in the world.

Killian didn’t know how long he was sitting out there, but it was a while before he heard the sliding door open and someone stand next to the chair beside him.

Killian turned his head slightly, brushing off his gloomy thoughts for a cocky grin. “That’s new,” he said as he invited her to sit next to him.

“What’s new?”

“Well, I’ve never seen you wake up before 8:00 in my life, and it’s barely 7:00 right now.”

Just as he knew she would, Emma rolled her eyes, but sat down next to him. “Whatever.”

“It’s absolutely true, love!”

Emma took out her phone and looked at the time before showing it to him. “It would be 9:00 if we were in Storybrooke.”

“Ah,” Killian nodded towards the phone before turning back to the sun. “So nothing’s changed.”

He wasn’t looking at Emma anymore, but he knew she was making some sort of face at him. He started to rub his picture unconsciously with his hand when he heard Emma ask, “What’s that?”

He turned it back towards himself, looking at the one thing that kept him going in prison. “It’s what got me through my time in jail.” For the first time ever, he passed it over to another person to look at, his heart rate increasing as he felt the picture leave his hand.

In prison, he would have been heartbroken if someone touched it, incase for some reason it wouldn’t return to him. But, seeing Emma’s smile when she looked at it calmed him slightly. “How did you have this in there?”

“It was in my wallet when I was taken in, and they let me keep it on the wall of my cell. I never put it up, though. I was too afraid someone might take it from me.” He took a deep breath as images of other prisoner’s possessions being torn apart in arguments flashed through his mind.

“Why would you think they’d take it from you?”

Killian stared at Emma, his whole body freezing in place. “I didn’t fancy my time in prison, love. I’d prefer not to draw up unwarranted memories.”

“Sorry.”

They sat in silence while she looked at the picture, clearly remembering the moment this was taken. She held out the picture to him. “What’s on the agenda today, Captain?”

His heart slowed as soon as the picture was back in his hands, and the familiar rub of his finger on the photo returned. “There’s a drive in down the road. I was thinking we could see their showing of Peter Pan tonight, perhaps go to that Chinese restaurant we always used to go to before the movie.”

“I think Henry’ll love it.”

“And you?” He couldn’t help the surge of hope that coursed through his body.

“I know exactly what you’re doing, Killian.”

His whole being fell as the weight of the reality sunk it, but he put on a façade as he pretended he had no clue what she was talking about. “Who, me? What ever could you be talking about?”

“Do you really think I don’t remember the first night we met? Driving the stolen car up to the movie, eating Chinese food with the $10 you had pickpocketed, and just watching the screen because we spent all our money on Cream Cheese Wantons?” Emma stood up, and his heart sank even more, but he still pretended it was no big deal. “It may have been well over twelve years ago, but I certainly haven’t forgotten.”

She walked away, closing the door, and he couldn’t help the soft, “It just seems like you needed reminding…” that fell from his mouth as he picked the picture back up and stared at the memories of a time where they could have had it all.

He loved Emma, for all she’s worth, but he hadn’t remembered how stubborn she could be. Killian knew he had to fight for her, but it was hard when he was at a loss as to what he could do.

He heard the sliding door open again, and he turned slightly to see Henry walk out, almost shyly as he stood before the open chair. “Hello, Liam.”

“Hi, Killian.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I haven’t adjusted to the Arizona time zone. I would have been at school for almost an hour by now. Why are you awake so early?”

“Well, Liam. I was done sleeping.”

Henry laughed as he sat down. “Oh, god, is that what I missed? 10 years of bad dad jokes?”

“I hope your mother has provided you with _some_ sort of humor in absence?”

“Mom jokes and dad jokes are completely different.” Henry shook his head in a way that was so _Emma_ he could hardly stand it. “What are we doing today?”

“I don’t have much planned for today, but try to pencil me in for the evening, alright?”

Henry bounced in his seat. “Tell me, tell me!”

“All I’ll say is that it’s what your mother and I did on our very first date.”

* * *

“Storybrooke doesn’t have a drive in! This is so cool, Killian! Isn’t it cool, Mom?”

Killian chuckled at his son behind him as Emma replied, “Definitely.” Killian could tell it was a forced enthusiasm, but Henry didn’t seem to know the difference. “You know, Killian and I used to go to drive-ins all the time when we lived here.”

“Really?”

Killian began to unbuckle his seatbelt and open the door. “It’s true, lad. Now, what can I get you guys? Does the lady still prefer Milk Duds?” Emma nodded so Killian could turn to Henry. “Liam? What would you like?”

“Popcorn with lots and lots of butter!” Henry looked away from Killian and back towards Emma. “Can I go with Killian to get our stuff?”

“Sure, kid,” Emma said as she passed them a $20. “This should be enough for everything. Killian?”

“Yes, love?”

He smiled, and then noticed the slight pink tinge on her face before she continued. “Don’t let him put too much butter on his popcorn. Last time, he put so much, it soaked right through the bag and stained his pants.”

Killian’s grin widened and, before he could say anything, Henry whined, “Moooom! Stop embarrassing me!” He looked at Killian. “She’s making it out to be worse than it was.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his throat. “Alright, not too much butter,” he promised Emma, but winked at Henry as they got out of the car.

They slammed the doors shut and started walking away, Henry skipping every few strides to keep up with Killian.

“Killian? Can we get some soda, too?”

“What does your mom usually say?”

He could see Henry give a slight smile as he clearly lied, “She lets me have it all the time.”

“Why do I have a feeling that isn’t the truth?”

“But we’re at a _movie_ , a _drive-in_ movie. You can’t seriously be considering water when the experience screams large Coke’s!”

Killian shook his head and let out a laugh before placing his hand on hair and rustling it up. “Aye, I suppose you’re right.”

They bought their popcorn (Killian stopping Henry from putting that third squirt of butter in the bag), and made their way back to the car.

Killian saw Emma hanging up her phone before putting it away and turning towards the door to open it for the two people coming towards her. “I wasn’t aware that large sodas were in the order?”

“We have a smart lad, Swan. He gave numerous reasons as to why a large Coke with three straws was much better than three bottled waters.”

Henry reached past him to put all the candy in the backseat. He slid out, frowning as he looked between Emma and Killian. “We’re not going to all fit in the front seat…”

“You and Killian can sit on the roof. I’m fine in here,” Emma jumped in, adjusting her seat before anyone else had a chance to say anything.

“Absolutely not.” Killian stomped over to the other side, opening the door and grabbing her hand. “The hood is plenty big for the three of us. Up on three. One, two…” Before he said three, he put his hands on Emma’s waist and gave her a slight wink, lifting her until she was on top of the car.

“Cool!” Henry jumped up and down and we to the front of the car, sitting right next to Emma. Killian got all the food and grabbed a blanket from the back seat, passing it to Emma and Henry before jumping onto the car as smoothly as he could.

“This was my favorite movie as a child,” he noted, passing the milk duds to Emma and grabbing the popcorn for him and Henry to share.

“Mine, too! Peter Pan is so cool!” Henry exclaimed.

“I’m more of a Hook fan, myself.”

Emma rolled her eyes at him, Killian turning to face her and popping an eyebrow in confusion. “I thought you were a fan of Tinkerbelle? You encouraged me to wear that costume to that couples party in 2002.” She lifted an eyebrow right back at him as she put a single Milk Dud in her mouth.

“I was Captain Hook, if you remember, darling,” Killian replied, licking his lips as he watched Emma’s mouth. “And, I was much more of a fan of the woman _in_ the dress than the particular character.”

“Gross,” Henry said, interrupting their stare and causing Killian to look down at their son. “Why would she even go as Tinkerbelle? Her brown hair screams more Wendy, to me.”

Killian froze in that moment, Emma looking frightened in her brown hair. Avoiding the topic, Killian pointed to the screen with his stump. “It looks like it’s about to start.”

Henry snuggled into the middle of Killian and Emma, and Killian smiled as he thought of how perfect this moment was. His family all-together in one place, outsiders seeing the trio and thinking how adorable they look together.

He wondered if this is what it was like when Henry went out with Emma and _Graham_ , if people just assumed Graham was Henry’s father and that they were a family. It made him sick to his stomach, and instead of dwelling on what their life in Storybrooke might be like, he settled for watching the movie.

They were barely into the movie when Killian realized Henry was asleep on his shoulder. “Do you want to stay or go back to the hotel?” He asked Emma, and she looked at the two of them in shock that Henry was even asleep at all.

Emma looked at the screen and then scooted back into the car. “We haven’t even gotten to the good part. We could stay a little longer, if you want to…” She turned and smiled at him, and it was a face with fewer worries, less responsibilities. A face that reminded him of the Emma he knew, not the Emma he’s seen the past couple of days.

“I’d like that,” he agreed, looking back at the screen.

It was hard to pay attention to the movie. He could feel Emma staring at him every few minutes, and then she’d look away and he could have his turn. Sometimes, they caught each other at the same time, and he’d stare at her and trace every line on her face with his eyes.

She’d quickly turn back to the screen.

Soon enough, Emma’s eyes started to droop, and Killian knew they had to leave. “Emma, love, we should get back to the hotel.” She slowly opened her eyes, blinking the sleep out of them as she nodded in agreement.

Emma put a hand on Henry’s shoulder and gently shook him. “Liam,” she whispered, doing her best to wake him up gently. “Liam, we need to get back to the hotel.”

(Just like every morning with Emma, he grunted and turned to Killian and snuggled in deeper.)

“Liam,” her voice was louder, a tone sounding more like a mother’s voice than he’s heard so far.

“Not yet.”

“You’ve been sleeping for nearly an hour, Liam. You’ll be much more comfortable in a bed.” Emma continued waking him up as Killian held him in his arms.

“Do we have to go, Dad?” Henry asked, sleepily, into Killian’s chest.

Killian froze, looking down at his son. He had never heard anyone call him that, _ever_ , since Henry was too young to speak when he went away. It filled his heart with everything he didn’t know he needed, to hear himself be referred to as a father.

He was in too much of a shock to do anything, and it was only after Emma seemed to snap out of something did she finally get Henry into the backseat and drive back to the hotel.

* * *

Much too early for how late they were out the previous night, Henry was right in front of Killian, begging to go to the pool. “Can we go to the pool, Killian? Please, pleaseeee?”

Killian shook his head, his tired brain barely recognizing what he was saying. “Not yet, lad. You’ve got homework.”

Instantly, Henry turned to Emma. “Did mom make you say that? C’mon, Mom! I’m on vacation! Why are you making me do homework?”

Emma laughed, and he stared at the wrinkles next to her eyes – the ones hidden behind her glasses. He wanted nothing more than to take them off and run his thumb over the skin, _her_ skin. But, instead, he merely chuckled at Emma’s response. “Wasn’t me, kid. This is all Killian.”

His son turned back to him. “But I don’t want to do homework! I want to go to the pool and go down the waterslides!” Henry whined, making Killian wonder of all the other times he’s fought about homework with his mother.

“I’ll make you a deal, Liam. I’ll help you with your homework this morning, and then we’ll all go to the pool this afternoon. Deal?”

Henry let out a huff as he went to gather his homework. “Fine. But we’re getting some Choco Tacos from the snack bar while we’re there.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Killian replied, walking over to the spot directly next to Henry. “So, what homework do you have?”

“It looks like Mr. Gold responded with… THREE PAGES OF MATH? Come _on_ , Killian. This is ridiculous!”

He merely grinned at his son. “The sooner you stop arguing, the sooner we’ll get those chocolate tacos,” he said as he turned back to the screen.

Henry leaned in closer, and prepared the first question in the notebook. He glanced at Emma, winking in mock confidence. Truth was, he dropped out of school at a young age and he wasn’t quite sure how much help he’d be, but hopefully he remembered enough to help his son out with a few math problems.

They were learning about multiplying fractions. He watched as Henry set up the problem and started doing the steps to solve it. Killian nodded whenever Henry looked at him for confirmation.

He wondered how often Graham did this with Henry, and if he was able to be of more help than he was being now. Would they sit together every night and do his math homework? Would he know the right answers to all of Henry’s questions and let him know if they were correct? Did they stay up late, working on times tables so Henry wouldn’t fail a quiz the next day?

He shook his head, leaning further in and trying to help in any way he could. He didn’t need to be thinking about Graham. He needed to help Henry so Henry would know who he should turn to, so Henry would know who he wanted help from.

“I think the answer is 5/8, when you divide them both sides by 3. Is that right, Killian?”

He smiled at the boy, leaning over the paper and trying to do the mental math in his head. “It looks that way to me.” He ruffled up his hair. “Nice work, son.”

* * *

After setting a sleepy Henry in bed, he gestured his head towards the sliding door, and Emma opened it up for them to go outside. The hot, Arizona air had cooled off, leaving the two of them in a stillness much needed after such a tiring day. Emma walked over to the chair she sat in the previous morning, plopping down as she said, “The pool really tired him out.”

He laughed in agreement, walking over and sitting down in his own chair. “I don’t think the junk food or sun helped too much. Plus, climbing those stairs to the waterslides over and over again, it’s a wonder he made it this late.”

“Look at you, already figuring out parenthood after two days.” He knew it was meant as a joke, but his face hardened while he looked at the beautiful Arizona sky. It was silent, strained, and he could physically feel Emma regretting her words. “I didn’t mean…”

He swallowed, his throat burning. “No, you’re right. I suppose I don’t know what it means to be a father.” He sunk into the chair, running his only hand over his face, his voice lowering as reality kicked in. “Who am I kidding, two years with a baby and then two days with a twelve year old doesn’t exactly make me parent of the year.”

“Killian…”

There were plenty of times that he hated his life in the past ten years, plenty of times where he felt defeated that he didn’t want to go on anymore. The thing that kept him going was his son and his wife, one of which thought he was dead and the other wanted to get a divorce. “Do you think… Do you think we’d still be married if I never went to prison?”

“Technically, we are still married.”

Emma reached over and took his stump. She had never been afraid of it, embracing his lack of hand with stride. It was something he always loved about her, and hated that it was coming to an end. “You know what I mean.” He wasn’t sure if his throat could tighten any more, he _knew_ his eyes must be red with tears, he _felt_ his lip trembling.

“I don’t know, maybe. I think we’d probably have a couple more kids.” She replied in the voice she always used when trying to calm him.

He couldn’t help his heart speeding up, imagining what their family might look like. “You think?”

“But Killian, even you have to admit this wouldn’t have been a good life for us. We were criminals, and we were always on the run. What kind of life would that have been for Henry?”

His heart broke even more, if possible. The hope he held on to was gone, he felt defeated as he replied, “I can’t believe I only have two more days with him before I lose him forever.”

“You’re not going to lose him, Killian. Now that Henry’s met you, there is no way he’s going to let you out of his life. He has too big of heart for that.”

“Maybe,” he whispered, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “But don’t forget, I’m also losing you, Emma.”

“Now that you’re in Henry’s life, you’re going to have to be in mine, too.”

He stood up, walking towards the railings and staring at the mountains. They were beautiful, surreal, and what had given him hope at one point now made him feel trapped. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What do you mean, then?”

He slowly looked at her. At some point, she had stood up and was standing next to him. “How am I supposed to look at you, and not run my hand through your hair?” He reached for a curl, barely brushing the brown strands that he had surprisingly gotten used to, yet missing the gold that he could see even in his darkest of hours. “How am I supposed to look into those green eyes,” his hand shaking, he lifted the glasses off, shutting them and setting them on the ledge. “And not get lost in them?”

“Killian…” he knew she was warning him, but her voice betrayed him, hinting at the desire for him he knew still lingered.

“How am I supposed to see you kiss another man, knowing that my lips are the ones you should be kissing?” The idea that she’s slept with _him_ , that _Graham_ had touched her in ways that only he was supposed to… The thought literally killed him.

She swallowed, but continued to look in his eyes.

It was simple – being together could, _should_ , be simple. She just had to _see_ it was simple. “How am I supposed to look at you and not imagine all that we had, what we _could_ have now?”

“You make it seem like it’s easy for me, Killian.”

“Isn’t it?”

He felt her eyes memorizing his face, her lips turned down slightly as she lifted her thumb to wipe away a tear he hadn’t known he had shed. “No.” He could see the struggle she was having with her confession, like she knew she shouldn’t still have feelings for him. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and reached for her glasses, placing them on her nose as she walked back into the hotel. “Goodnight, Killian.”

He looked down, whispering, “Goodnight, Emma,” as he let the woman he loved with his entire heart walk away.

* * *

Surprisingly, Henry never asked him where he was in those ten missing years. He was pleased that he stopped there, knowing he would never deny Henry the truth, but at the same time not wishing to break the little bubble they created.

Henry asked about the two years they had together, and suddenly it struck him that Emma must not have told Henry much about his childhood.

(Or, at least, his childhood before Leia, Liam, Storybrooke, and Graham.)

He asked about sailing, and after getting confirmation from Emma, the three of them went out on the boat, bringing a picnic and making a day of it. Henry mentioned that Emma never took him sailing, and Emma brushed it off as being too cold to go on the water in Maine. Even so, she took to being his first mate as if they had just gone out last weekend, remembering the terms and how to sail. A surge of pride went through him, thinking about how she retained what he’d learned from him, even unconsciously. It meant that _something_ stayed with her, that _something_ about him would always be in her heart.

The day was perfect, exactly what a day with a family should be, and as the sun set and the night rose, he was dreading sailing back to shore. So, he convinced his wife and son to lie on their backs so he could tell stories of the constellations.

He pointed to different stars, making sure to mention Henry’s own zodiac sign and story. Henry smiled. “You remember when my birthday is?”

“Celebrated it every year,” he replied. In reality, the celebration was just him singing _Happy Birthday_ in his head, counting the years his son would be, and letting a tear fall down onto his cot.

But Henry didn’t need to know that.

“And over there, you see those six stars? That’s Cygnus.” He said, daring a look at Emma to see if she remembered. She stayed indifferent though, so he continued on. “It’s a swan and it soars high in the summer.

“Like our last name!” Henry replied, smiling with pride.

“I actually nicknamed Emma after that star,” he said, absentmindedly, as he continued to point to the stars.

It wasn’t until Henry bunched his face in confusion and scrunched his nose that he realized he let something slip. “Who’s Emma?” his son asked.

He looked at Emma, who seemed frozen in her spot, but turned back to Henry almost as quickly. “It’s someone I knew from long ago.” He said in defeat. “Someone I have long lost.”

“Where did she go? Why did she leave?” his son continued, looking back at the stars after clearly noticing the change in his parents behaviors.

“Sometimes things aren’t meant to be, and we were young, foolish.” His heart broke, but he turned back to the sky and pointed to a few stars, coughing to clear his throat as he told the story about Aquila.

Eventually, Henry did fall asleep, and when he did, Emma stood and walked to the edge of the boat. She sat on the bench and looked at the ocean.

He didn’t know what to say, so he just walked over and sat next to her. He itched to place his arm around her, to comfort her, but knew nothing good would come of it. Instead, he waited by her, knowing Emma would come around eventually.

Out of nowhere, she pushed his chest, nearly knocking the wind out of him. “Why the hell did you call me Emma in front of Henry?”

He felt lost, caught doing something _bad_ , even if it was merely calling her by her name. “It was a slip of the tongue, love. He didn’t realize I was talking about you, anyway.”

“But what if he _did_? How would we explain that?”

Anger rose in him. “But he _didn’t_ , Emma! He’s no wiser now than before that your name is not Leia, and his Liam. You’ve…” He took a breath to calm his frustration. “ _We’ve_ nothing to worry about.”

He saw her turn to look at their son, letting out a long sigh. He could tell the wheels in her head were turning, and he knew a million thoughts were running through his mind. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you.” It was quiet, as if the apology was a secret she hadn’t wanted to admit.

“Ten years is a long time, love – it would be foolish to think you wouldn’t try to move on and build a better life for you and Henry.” And it was the truth. Will had warned him that it was difficult to keep faith in prison, and he still hoped. It what got him through prison, but thinking back, it was stupid to think she’d put her life on hold for him.

“But that’s the thing, Killian,” she said, snapping him out of his own thoughts. Her voice cracked, and all he wanted to do was take her sadness and make it go away. “If everything was opposite, if I were the one to go to jail and you raised Henry by yourself, I know that you would have waited those ten years for me, or fifteen, or _twenty_ , if that’s how long my sentence was.”

She covered her eyes, trying to hide her tears like she always did. He had broken down her walls all those years ago, and now they were up higher than ever. Trying to provide her with any comfort he could, he laced his fingers within hers, her hand fitting within his just as it was meant to.

“Your silence speaks volumes, Killian.”

He shook his head. “I’m not thinking that, love. All _I’m_ thinking about is what I can do to wipe those bloody thoughts from your mind.” And despite whatever she might think, he really hadn’t been thinking of that.

“You’re trying to tell me you wouldn’t have waited for me?”

He adjusted in his seat, wanting nothing more than to ignore her question. “I’m trying to tell you that you’re not a bad person because you didn’t.” He maneuvered them so he could drape his arm over her shoulder, keeping their hands laced across their bodies. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless when she rested her head on his shoulder.

“You never told me you named me after that constellation.”

He smiled. “Do you remember the first time I called you it?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“It was the morning after of our first kiss. We were sitting on the beach watching a meteor shower, but you were much more interested in looking at the stars in the sky. I tried to tell you we could look at the stars any old night –”

“But I said that it didn’t make them any less beautiful that night. Yeah, I remember that night, too.” She admitted.

“Well, we spent the night looking at the constellations instead of the shower, and it was after I pointed out Cygnus that you kissed me.” He shrugged. “So I began calling you “Swan”. It just felt right.”

She took a deep breath next her. “I remember that night a little differently.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to think of anything he missed, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out anything else to the night. They looked at stars, they kissed, and then they cuddled. What else was there? “Oh?”

Emma nodded, giving a teasing smile. “It was the first time I had ever seen you dumstruck.”

He thought back to the kiss, grinning to himself. “It was a hell of a kiss,” he admitted, laughing when she began to. He let out a sigh. “It was the night I knew I never wanted to kiss anyone else again.”

He felt her shift, sinking into him even more. He thought maybe he had finally gotten through to her, that she would finally accept what he’d been trying to tell her for days. Instead, she murmured, “Please tell me you’ll move on, Killian. I need to know you will be happy.”

He couldn’t reply. His chest felt like it was going to rip right out of his chest.

She sat back up, unlacing their arms and turning towards him, face on. She opened her mouth again, but he couldn’t take her saying another thing. So, he did the only thing he could think of.

He kissed her.

He expected her to pull back immediately, fire in her eyes, a slap to his face. But, instead, he felt her close her eyes, giving in to kissing him again. He brought his hand up to cup the back of her head – something he had done often in the past. He felt her reach up, grab his collars like always.

Then she pulled away, like he knew she would. It wasn’t for long, though, because she just leaned back in, licking his lip, and asking for entrance.

He hadn’t necessarily forgotten what kissing her was like, especially since they had shared that one in the hotel room before his world came crashing down, but he found that it was exactly what he remembered. They were so in sync, knew each other so well that it was second nature.

Once again, she pulled back, using her hand to wipe away any sign that they kissed. They were both panting hard, and it wasn’t until she muttered, “I think…” that he came down from the high.

“Anything,” he said, leaning in, not quite touching, but waiting for her to finally let go.

But, instead of leaning in, she leaned away, standing up and walking backwards. “I think you should take us back. I think… I think we need to—”

He had to stop her. He had to make her know that this thing they had was real. “Tell me you don’t feel anything, and I’ll turn this ship around. Tell me that you don’t want to be with me anymore and I’ll spend the last day with my son without any obligations from you. Tell me that it’s over and I’ll sign the damn papers when we get back.” He placed his arms on hers, pleading with her. “Tell me that you truly don’t want _us_ , and I’ll move on.”

Her lip shook as she shook her head no. “I’ll always love you, Killian, but sometimes that’s not enough.”

He could hear blood pumping though his body. This moment couldn’t be it, the final chapter in a tragedy. This couldn’t be where their story ends. “Why? Why isn’t it enough? It was before!” He put his hand and stump on her face, wanting to shake any sort of sense into her. “I love you, Emma Jones. Why don’t you see that you do, too?”

He felt her hands grab his wrists, softly, as if unsure if she really wanted to take them off her face or if she should just hold them in place. “Why can’t you see that it’s better this way? Graham is… He’s _stable_ , Killian. He has a job, a home, he doesn’t have to worry about providing for us because he _can_.”

“And why can’t I?” He knew he was crying now, because _this just couldn’t be the end_.

“How do I know if we get back together that you _won’t_ go back to your old life? You’re an ex-con, Kill. You’re not going to be able to work because no one will hire you, and what are you going to do then? You’ll have to start stealing again, and drag Henry and me into it, as well.”

Her words cut like a knife, so deep he wasn’t sure it would ever heal.

“How do you know I would? Could you not wrap your mind behind the idea that I’ve changed? That people will look past the criminal charges and hire me?”

She shot her hand towards their sleeping son, unaware of what was going on merely five feet from him. “You refused to tell your own son that you went to jail for _ten years_.”

He pointed his finger back at her. “You told him I was _dead_. You have no right to blame me for keeping information from him.”

“I did it to _protect_ him, us.”

He hated this, hated that he knew her so well that he could drop truths on her, making his words hit too close to home. “You did it because you’re embarrassed of me, of what you used to be. You’re too bloody stubborn for your own good, Emma. You’re afraid to let me in because you’re afraid that maybe your perfect little world wasn’t as perfect as you thought.” He turned away, walking towards the helm to sail them back to shore. “You’re a coward, Emma, and now Henry is going to suffer without a father because of it.”

“Don’t you _dare_ bring Henry into this, Killian.” And now, they were just trying to hurt each other.

Just like he knew how to make his words hurts, she knew how to make hers.

“He was happy before you came back. He already _had_ a father in his life, and you burst his little bubble. And now we have to go back to Storybrooke and he has to look at Graham _every day_ and think about how he’s met his real father, and howI broke up this family because _I chose him over you._ ”

“Who’s Henry?” Henry asked, rubbing his eyes. They were staring at each other so deeply, so intent on making sure they won the argument, that he hadn’t even realized his son woke up. “And why does Killian keep saying the name Emma?”

She clearly had enough, finally giving into the tears. She pointed straight at him, shouting, “He’s your son, Killian. _You_ explain everything to him. You explain why you weren’t in his life for ten years!” Before he could stop her, she began down the stairs to the captain’s quarters.

Henry turned towards him when the door shut, his face a frown. He let out a frustrated sigh before walking towards his son. “Would you like to know?” He swallowed. “Why I was gone for ten years?”

Henry shook his had. “You’re back now, that’s all that matters.” Henry looked between the door Emma had just shut and him, clearly trying to decide which parent to console.

He lifted his hand to the door. “Go to your mother – she needs you. I’ll turn this around and we can return the boat before they charge us any extra.”

Henry nodded, giving him one last look before walking down the same stairs Emma just took.

* * *

Henry was pretending to be asleep in the car ride home which, who could blame him? It was strained, it was awkward. Emma kept her eyes on the road, refusing to look at him next to her.

Not that he was making any more of an effort. He just stared out the window, trying to ignore the pain in his throat.

They “woke up” Henry when they got back, silence taking over the family as they went to the elevator and walked the empty hallway back to their room.

After numerous long hallways, their door came to view with a man sleeping in front of it.

“Is that…” Henry began.

“Graham?” Emma continued, running ahead until she could kneel in front of him. The two boys sped up to catch up, only to make it close enough to see Emma kissing the living daylights out of Emma.

The man stood up, helping Emma up, and hugged him when he and Henry stopped in front of them.

“Liam! How was the trip?” he asked, opening his arms and inviting him for a hug.

Henry’s eyes darted to his, clearly trying to decide if he should hug Graham in front of him.

He watched as Henry walked into Graham’s arms, a shot straight at his heart, before putting an arm around him. “It was great. You had nothing to worry about.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said before turning back to Emma. “Can you open the door now? My neck hurts from the plane trip, and sleeping on the floor hasn’t helped.”

“Oh, right,” Emma turned to open the lock. “How long have you been here?” She asked, opening the door.

“A couple of hours. Where have you guys been?” Graham asked them, placing his suitcase down inside the room and Henry entering right after.

And all he could do was watch the little family reunion.

“Killian took us sailing,” Henry replied, unsure of what to say.

Emma was still standing in the doorway. She turned her head to look at him, standing alone watching them. His eyes were tearing up, seeing his family go in the arms of another man.

“You coming, Leia?” he heard Graham say from the room before stepping in the hallway after her. “What’re you looking at?”

Emma’s voice broke as she turned to him. “Graham, this is Killian, Liam’s father.”

It snapped him out of whatever funk he was in, walking down in confidence and sauntering over to the door. He held out his hand, swallowing quickly before saying, “Pleased to meet you.”

“You, too,” Graham replied, looking at Emma before turning back. “I, uh, wasn’t expecting you to be here. I thought you’d be at your house.”

“The same could be said for me, I suppose,” he replied, knowing it was a little too sassy for a first meeting. Graham never reached for his hand, so he let it fall. “Where are my manners, come in, come in.” He said, ushering his wife’s boyfriend into the room, as if _he_ was playing host.

All three adults walked in to find Henry sitting at the table, watching the scene as if he’d rather be eating Brussels sprouts and cauliflower.

(Which, if he were to be honest with himself, Henry probably did.)

Graham immediately walked over to Henry, sitting next to him as if staking his claim. “Wow, Liam sure does take after you. It’s like he’s a mini-Killian.”

He saw Emma shift on her feet, her eyes darting between him and Graham. “Uh, yeah. Did I not mention that?”

“No, you didn’t.” He could hear the irritation in Graham’s voice, and it _almost_ made him smile.

“He’s definitely my son.” He went over to the bed, staring at Graham the entire time.

Graham tilted his head, studying him and trying to figure out. “Have we met before? You look really familiar…”

“Can’t say that we have, mate.”

Graham stroked his chin. “I could have sworn I’ve seen you before.”

He shook his head again. “I’ve been here in Arizona for the last ten years. Have you visited at all?”

“No, this is my first visit.” He raised his hands to put on the back of the couch, and he saw Graham’s eyes fixate straight on his stump. He drew in a breath before stating, “Oh my god, I know where I know you.”

“What—” His heart started to beat fast, looking at everyone’s faces in the room. Emma looked trapped, Henry looked nervous, and Graham look shocked.

“You’re that one-handed guy that just got out of prison. You’ve been all over the news lately.” He wasn’t able to stop Graham before he could reach for the computer and typed in his name. He clicked the top link stating “Jones and the Mills Mansion” and turned the news story to the rest of the people in the room. “You got out of prison, what, five days ago?”

He drew in a breath, sitting up straight. He felt numb, his whole world crashing around him in a matter of seconds. He turned to Henry, watching the situation click within his head.

“He… What?” Henry asked, his voice that hadn’t quite changed yet hitching as he tried to digest what Graham was saying about his father.

Graham turned back towards Emma. “Your ex-husband is a convict?”

“I didn’t…” she started, but Graham interrupted him.

“Wait…” He turned back towards the computer and typed some more, frowning when he found whatever he was looking for.

“Graham, I can explain…”

“What did he look up?” Henry asked as he grabbed the computer before anyone could stop him. “Mom… Is that you?” He asked Emma, and he finally saw the picture of the Emma he remembered, with blonde hair and no glasses, the line “Emma Jones, Killian’s wife” listen under it.

“Liam, I—”

He couldn’t understand what was going on, it was all happening too fast. He watched Henry while the past three days suddenly clicked in his head. “Killian kept talking about Emma because that’s you…” Henry turned towards him, a look of distrust in his eyes. “And you called me Henry because… Because…”

“Liam, Graham, if you just let me explain—” Emma began, but it was too late. Henry shot up and sprinted out onto the patio, slamming the door behind him.

Emma was staring at the glass door where their son just left, then looked at Graham, then him. “I’ll talk to the lad. I don’t think he’d listen to much you’d have to say right now,” he said, leaving his wife with Graham as he walked outside.

Henry was perched on a chair, his arms crossed and looking down. “I suppose it’s not every day that you find out your father went to prison.”

Henry didn’t reply, kept looking at the ground. Finally, he turned to look at him. “Why were you there?”

Killian walked around and sat down. He didn’t want to break the already fragile idea Henry had of his mother at the moment, so he found the best way to tell him without spilling the beans that she was a criminal, too. “You know your mother was an orphan, right?”

Henry nodded.

“Well, I was, too, and we had some sort of special bond because of it. We weren’t able to afford much, and so I took to stealing so I could provide for you and your mother. I was in the middle of a crime when the police showed up. I plead guilty to make sure you and your mother didn’t suffer for my sins, and was sent to prison for ten years for it.”

He heard Henry sniffle, and he placed a hand on his back. “Your mother… She was the love of my life, along with you, and I would have done anything for the two of you, which is why the easiest decision in the world for me was to go to prison for ten years. She, albeit misguided, thought it was best to keep you safe if you both changed your names, getting new identities, and moving on.” He took a deep breath. “I understand if this changes your opinions of me…”

Henry finally looked at him, and his face was pure pain. “I don’t know what to think. You’re a criminal, so I shouldn’t like you. You’ve done bad things that I shouldn’t forgive. But at the same time, you’re my dad, I’ve wanted to meet you my entire life, and I never want to let you go. You’re too important to me, now that I’ve met you.”

“It must be a disappointment, I’m sure.”

“It’s not even that. It’s just a lot to take in.”

He leaned in and kissed his temple. He didn’t know where it came from, it just felt natural, like something a father might do. “I can’t leave Arizona,” he admitted. “That’s why I’m not coming back with you.”

Henry nodded, taking everything in stride. “Will I ever see you again? After tomorrow?”

“If you wish,” he replied. “I can’t promise it will be anytime soon, but I’m sure if there is some time off from school, you’d be able to come visit.”

“Could we go to the drive in again?”

He laughed, “Absolutely.” They stood up, placing his arm around him and bringing the two of them back to their room.

“Liam, “ Emma walked over and put her arms around Henry. “I’m so sorry I lied, kid. I promise I will never lie to you again.”

Henry paused before bringing his arms around his mother. “It’s almost 1:00 and I’m tired.”

“Don’t you want to talk—”

“Killian’s told me everything I need to know. I’m going to bed. Try not to be too loud.” Henry walked to the bed and crawled under the covers.

A moment later, Emma put a hand to her forehead. “I think… I think I’m drained, too. Goodnight.” He watched as Emma crossed the room to kiss Graham before walking to him and squeezing his shoulder. She then walked to the opposite side of the bed.

Graham turned to him, tilting his head. The room shifted into an awkward silence. They both wanted to prove their dominance, but knew it was petty.

So, instead, he turned to the man who took care of his family for ten years and said, “You take the couch.”

“You sure?” Graham asked, already walking towards the couch.

“Yeah. I’ve slept in much worse places than an upscale Arizona hotel.”

* * *

Graham was sitting at the table when he came back into the room, his neck hurting from sleeping on the chair outside. He sat down in the chair opposite Graham, smelling the coffee as he studied Graham.

“Thank you for taking care of Emma and Henry all these years,” he whispered. He had thought about it a lot last night, that he didn’t know where Emma and Henry would be without this man. He took care of his family when he couldn’t – the least he should get is a thanks for it. “Emma’s right when she said that you’re the more stable one, that if I never went to jail and we stayed together, there could have been more serious consequences than a 10-year prison sentence.”

Graham shook his head. “You don’t need to thank me. I love them – they’ve been my family since Leia—Emma let me into their lives.”

He waited a moment, eying Graham before he continued. “What was Henry like as a kid?”

“What do you mean?”

Killian stared at his stump, using his thumb to brush over it. “I knew him as a baby. Tell me your favorite father/son story when he grew up. I’ve only gotten bits and pieces from what Emma’s told me, and nothing has been through the eyes of a man.” He looked back at him. “Tell me about what he was like?”

Graham thought for a second before giving a slight grin. “There was this one time when he was, oh, six or so, that Liam – I mean Henry – wanted to learn how to ride a bike without training wheels. It was summer, and I took the day off to just be with him. I put his little bike into the backseat along with a helmet and his hand, knee, and elbow pads, and we drove to this empty parking lot by the station. And he was just so scared, but he pretended that it was no big deal – like he knew exactly what he was doing. He was terrible at it at first, he couldn’t even get a full pedal before falling down. But he was determined, and he kept on riding and riding and falling until he finally did it. He was so proud of himself.”

He smiled, thinking about how scrappy a young Henry must have been. Using a softer voice, he began again. “I can’t leave Arizona for a year. You’re all leaving and it’s going to be another year before I see him again.”

“Believe me,” Graham said, shifting in his chair, “Henry is going to want to call you every night to tell you how his day went.”

“Emma says that, too… Make sure they’re okay for me, alright?”

Graham opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly Emma was by his side. “We better start packing. What time’s your light, Graham?”

Graham looked up at Emma before answering. “12:30 – I bought a ticket for the one you’re on.”

Emma smiled before turning to Henry, calling out, “Liam! It’s time to wake up!”

She saw Henry shift in the bed, groggy from staying up so late. “Five more minutes,” he begged.

“Sorry, kid, but if we’re going to make it to the airport on time, we have to start packing.”

He watched as Henry got out of bed and start shoving clothes, books, and souvenirs into the suitcase. Emma followed his lead, packing her own thing. While Henry was clearly ignoring her, she was doing the best to ignore Killian, too.

He watched her pack her bag, his heart ripping at each new item that went into her suitcase. Another shirt, another brush, she was going to leave him. It nearly killed him, watching her throw their life together away.

He sighed before turning to his own little duffle bag from prison while Graham took his and started to pack. Every once in a while, he’d stop, looking at her pack and wishing nothing more than to make _her_ stop, to make her stay.

When the room was packed, Henry immediately went to him and threw his arms around him, crying into his chest. “Henry, I’m going to move to Storybrooke as soon as I possibly can.”

“That’s a while year away! Can’t I stay here with you?” he cried, and Killian was starting to feel a wetness pool in the middle of his shirt.

He mustered out a chuckle. “You can’t up-and-leave right now – that’s not how life works.”

“But we missed out on so much!” he said through his tears.

“I know. We’ve spent ten years apart, another one will feel like nothing. Plus, you’ll have your mother and… and you’ll have Graham.”

There was a shuffling and whispers in the background, but as a father, he didn’t notice what it was. In that moment, all he cared about was that his son was leaving him for god knows how long.

“It’s time to go, Liam.”

He felt Henry hold on to him even tighter. “I love you, Henry.” He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut as he said the three hardest words he’d ever said. “Take care, lad.”

“Bye, Dad.” Henry whispered into his chest. His son leaned back and then walked with Emma and Graham towards the door.

He had to try, once more. “Uh, lass? A word?”

She paused, but said, “I’ll meet you guys at the car.” Graham nodded and they left the room, shutting it behind them.

Killian ran up to her, running his hand down her arm, caressing her in the only way possible. “Please, Emma. Please stay. I love you – I love Henry. I can’t… I can’t be without you both in my life.”

“Killian…”

“No, Emma. I just…” and he had to try the last thing. He kissed her, and she responded – at first.

“Henry and I have to go back to our lives in Maine,” she nearly whispered, avoiding his face.

“But—”

“It’s been nice playing house for these past four days, Killian. But it wasn’t _real_. This bubble we were in? It was pretend. I’m Leia Swan now.”

Her words opened up every wound, tearing them further out that he felt like he was going to burst. “I—”

“Henry, Graham, and I will come visit on his spring break, and then I’ll help you move to Storybrooke after the year is up.”

He was crying now, not believing the things she was saying to him. “Don’t leave, Emma. Please, don’t leave.” He hugged her, not caring if he stained her shirt with his tears.

“We’re going to miss our flight if we don’t go now.” She took a step back. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“Is this what you really wa—” He tried, but she interrupted him before he could finish.

“I’ll let you know when spring break is. And I left my phone number on a sticky note so you can contact me whenever you get a phone. Henry’s going to want to FaceTime you as soon as possible, so just call me when you figure it out. And the divorce papers are right there on the table. Go get a lawyer and have them fax my lawyer when you sign them.”

“Emma…”

“Goodbye, Killian.”

And that was it.

She left.

He walked over to the bed, sank onto it, and let it all out. There was really nothing he could do anymore but wait a year. Would they be married by then? Would he even matter anymore? Like she said, it was nice playing house, but it wasn’t real. And it _couldn’t_ be real.

He took a deep breath, wanting to get out of the hotel before the memories overtook him. He grabbed the divorce papers, put the sticky note in his wallet, slung his duffle bag over his shoulder, and left the hotel.

* * *

_He rolled over, panting and wiping the sweat off his forehead. He let out a sated sigh as he turned his head slightly to look at Emma, barely showing her pregnant belly. It had taken her a long time to show, but now that she has, he didn’t know if he’d seen anything more beautiful._

_“Your boobs are bigger,” he said, earning a slap on his chest._

_“They’re not the only things bigger. I’ve gotten fat.”_

_“You’ve gotten pregnant.”_

_“I don’t see a difference.” She let out a long breath, putting her hand over her hump. “I’m happy.”_

_“Then I’ve done my job correctly,” he interrupted, earning himself another slap._

_Yet, she let out a chuckle. “That’s not what I meant.” She turned her head slightly on the pillow to look at him. “With you, and us. I’m happy.”_

_“Me, too.”_

_“I… I love you.”_

_She was pregnant, they had been dating for a while, and yet it was the first time she had ever said those exact words to him, in that order._

_“I love you, too.”_

* * *

With no money and the closest homeless shelter three towns over, he knew he had to camp for the night. He found a beach not far from the lake he and Emma took Henry out on, the very beach he and Emma shared their first kiss, and placed his duffle bag on the soft sand. He fell to the ground, his heartache coming back full swing as he remembered that night.

He was alone, and all he had for company was his dark thoughts.

He didn’t even know what time it was. The moon had risen hours ago, the sky clear of any clouds blocking the stars. He turned his head slightly to the right to look at the six stars that started it all – the swan.

He lifted the divorce papers, immediately lowering it when he read the headline, “ _Petition to Divorce_ ”. He stuffed the unsigned papers into his duffle back, closing his eyes and squeezing out the final tears he had.

If he cried anymore, he’d certainly be dehydrated.

He wasn’t sure how, but he knew he fell into some sort of sleep because out of the blue, he felt someone touch his forehead, jerking him awake.

It took a moment to focus on the person next to him, but once he did, he became confused. “Did you guys miss your flight?” he asked, sitting up. His back and neck still hurt from the night before, and he let out a little groan as he tried to get in to a comfortable sitting position.

Emma smiled, which surprised him, but shook her head. “No. Henry and Graham and I all got back to Storybrooke safe and sound.”

She was making even less sense by the moment. If she had left and been in Storybrooke, how the hell was she sitting next to him, smiling? Was she some sort of mirage? Or a very lucid dream?

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I came back.”

He sucked in a breath, still tired and not fully comprehending what she was saying. “Why?”

She scooted forward, running her hand through his hair. “You got in my head, Killian. And your son made me realize that home wasn’t in Storybrooke with Graham, but with you, wherever you are.”

“What are you saying, love?”

She reached past him, dug through his duffle bag. Her eyes lit up when she felt the divorce papers, taking them out of the bag and crumpling them up into a ball. She rolled off him, standing up and running towards the edge of the lake.

She threw it into the water.

It didn’t make it far, nearly floating back to the beach. “You throw like a girl.”

“I am a girl,” she replied as he dove into the lake. When he reached the ball of paper, he picked it up and threw it even further, until it was merely a speck barely floating.

She entered the water, wading her way until they were next to each other. “Being back in Storybrooke felt wrong, knowing you were still here.”

“You know I can’t come back with you when you leave again.”

Emma brushed her lips across his softly, a ghost of all the past kisses they’ve ever shared. “You know that the only reason I’m going back is to pick up Henry and pack our stuff.”

“You’re moving to Arizona?”

“We’re moving to wherever you are.”

“Well, then.” He hugged her, pulling her until she was flush against him. “Welcome home, Swan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's all she wrote for this verse. 
> 
> Comments are very appreciated!


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